


𝑅𝑒𝑑'𝑠

by TeaWithAPsycho



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: BDSM, Betrayal, Boss - Freeform, F/F, F/M, Gore, M/M, Multi, Other, Pining, Possible Rape, Secretary - Freeform, Slow Burn, Smut, Taking Over the World
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 18:20:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29563194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeaWithAPsycho/pseuds/TeaWithAPsycho
Summary: TomTord fanficred leader x future tomwarning!smutnon-consetual touchingpossible rapegore
Relationships: Edd/Tord (Eddsworld), Patryck/Paul (Eddsworld), Tom/Tord (Eddsworld)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	1. Chapter 1

Heavy boots settled on the base floors.

People of all colors, races, genders — anything really— all in perfect synchronizations.

Matching clothes, boots, hair all pressed sup into a cap and showing little but they're face and eyes.

It's funny. That this is what brings them together. People who would've fought over differences, now brought together for an idea that they seemed to hold commonly.

An army.

It was almost sad to him. That such a beautiful display of human kind was wasted on a cause like world domination.

That was Tom's view of course.

It may seem hypocritical to someone on the outside. The man working directly under their leader, his secretary, complaining about an organization that he was taking part in. But to be fair, he hadn't started out here on his own account and was conspiring his own affairs secretly.

He passed the group as they're cell commander lead them down one side of the hall, the only thing comparable to the sight being a first grade teacher offering extra recess time if the line was perfectly quiet.

No one paid him any mind.

He wasn't addressed as anyone important, but the gold name tag on his left pec and the circle checkered patches seen into the sides of his shoulders indicated some importance.

He had all the clearance he needed just from a simple checkered pattern.

His fingers flipped through the schedule ok his work pad, the digital pages blinking past quickly as his headset informed him how many more pages he had to go till he was at the right set.

The VR goggles had essentially been turned into a device to help his disease. He could see perfectly fine with out them, but due to an accident from one of Red Leader's scientists and a lazer gun, a cancer had been brewing in the back of his voidless eyes. The head set had some beautiful features that made Tom's life simpler along with fighting off the cells that wanted him essentially dead.

He could record videos from his point of view, could store note and data, could accept and decline calls, he could even replay previous conversation. Though it did take a while to go through footage. And he was the only one who had access to them. A bit of privacy on behalf of the Leader for such an accident, along with the termination of said scientist.

Of course, Tom never did see him leave the base. Yet he was gone. He chalked it off as simply missing the plane for a good bye and 'fuck you'.

He moved around a corner, passing through a set of double doors and into a bustling eating area. Booths and tables strewn about and a few long lines at an open counter connecting to the kitchen, serving hungry soldiers they're fill till they're next meal.

Tom most gracefully through the crowds, clipping his pad onto it's harness by his side before moving to the counter, resting his arms on the cool surface as a few soldiers gave him a look of disdain.

No body likes a cutter.   
ESPECIALLY military executives and highly trained killers.

"Tommy boy, here for the king's lunch I presume?" The chef asked, loading up a few plates and setting some domes on top of them to keep them hot, then laying them on top of a silver platter. A cup and hot pot along with a few tins- maybe sugar and cream- beside them.

"More like breakfast. He's still knocked out and probably hungover." He said, watching the chef pull out a seltzer and few tablets in a small baggie.

"I'd say he has the right to be. You don't conquer a feet like at that at the age of 25. Damn worth celebrating. " He said, sliding the trust and pills over the counter.

Tom rolled his eyes, pocketing the pills and picking up the tray.

"Wish it was enough to slow him down." He said with a slight smile, hearing the chef chuckle.   
"Man like that never slows down. We'll have america in our grasp by the time he wakes up."

Tom chuckled, giving a nod of appreciation before moving back toward the halls.

He passed many doors and training facilities, managing to occupy the elevator by himself, taking it to the top floor of the building.

He found himself lucky to be able to grab the elevator alone. He didn't like the usual of being pressed dna flushed with a hot tray on his hands.

He turned to the back, watching the base as he was raised by the metal death trap.

The base was huge.

Themed with red and white, maybe some black and bits of gold, but mostly red to live up to they're name.

The size itself was at least a few football fields, that only being the area where Red Leader gathers his Troops for speeches and daily announcement. Yesterday occupying the area for entertainment and celebration.

It _was_ a rather impressive feat...

Tom looked up as the elevator stopped, turning back to the doors to see the indicator for clearance. He moved towards it, the scanner about hip height as he turned to scan the dangling badge from him belt when he noticed it wasn't there.

He panicked, taking the tray into one hand and quickly patting himself down.

" Shit shit shit shit shti—" He'd kill him if he found out Tom had lost his ID badge! Or even worse, that someone now had full access to the base....

The male suddenly sighed as he felt an indent in his back pocket, pulling out the card and scanning it, feeling the metal box jolt before continuing it's path. He shoved it into his breath pocket, holding the tray steadily as he looked at the numbers increase of the screen above the doors.

Damn, he nearly had a heart attack.

After everything he'd went through to get here. Everything he'd done to giant the leaders trust, all possibly gone in a second.

He didn't want to think what would be done to him.

And he was so close to his goal too.

Just a few more...


	2. Chapter 2

The image above is the layout of Red leader's room

The light blue around the circle indicates where glass is.

Boxes are doors

Thick black lines are walls

And anything that isn't spaced without a wall means it's connected to the rooms without walls.

Just wanted to provide a quickck lay out since this is the over view, not only of his room, but the over view of the building shape.

//////////

The elevator jolted, slowing to a stop and leveling out with the floor before the doors opened. Tom was created with a long white hall, singular red stripes going done both sides to the end of the hall that split three ways.

Tom passed down the silent hall, a few rooms being occupied by meetings or presentations by high leaders and associates. Mostly debriefings on the next mission and where they'll be focusing on next.

Toes pulled four his ID again, seeing a few men moving down the hall, looking at him suspiciously.

"Oi! Stop there. Le' me see some credentials short st—"

Tom flashed them his ID as he moved past, going down the middle intersection that seemed rather reserved.

He flicked his pass to another scanner that turned green, identifying him as he walked down the hallway and sending it to the leader's computer in his unoccupied office.

Tom finally got to the end of the hall, meeting a set of heavy doors labeled with a gold plaque.

_Red leader's quarter_

It seems a little dumb to label the room of where your boss is, but it's almost impossible to reach the top floor through all of it's defenses, even if you tried to scale the tower, you'd be shot unknowingly from hidden snipers by the time you'd reach the fifth floor.

A little ways before for it was a nother door, this one only single doored, but with a similar plaque.

_Secretary to Red Leader Quarters_

He found it a little weird for it not to just say Tom Vinsewood. But the people of the base probably wouldn't bother learning his name to his face to his position of status.

Or maybe the boss just liked seeing his title around the base.

He slid his ID over the scanner, the door soon giving a few mechanical white before clicking. Tom pressed his elbow down on the handle, pushing the door open with his backside, peering into he room.

It was dark. Pitch back.

Tom moved inside, the heavy door closing and locking behind him as his goggles gave him a greenish vision of objects. These things were a God send in these situations.

He dodged a few chairs and tables, moving to another door and pushing inside. This room was, again, dark. But he could see just fine.

A bed was pressed to a wall to the right, a lump shifting ever so slightly for a few seconds before settling as Tom made his way over.

He gently elbowed a small switch to a bedside lamp, turning around and sitting himself on the bed, the tray in his lap.

The bedroom was decorated simply. Red sheets on the bed, a few pillows, a desk beside the large curved wall and a television. A simple sleek dark oak dresser pressed against a flat walk and a few shelves with valuables.

Tom turned slightly, seeing the big lump wrapped in covers, a small display of pale flesh and light brown hair. And red. Just a little flash underneath it with a slight blue glow.

He set the tray next to him on the bed, laying his hands back and smirking.

"Surprised to still see you in bed," he said, a groan emiting form the covers. "You're usually up by 4."

The mass shuffled around a bit, soon a grey eye met a digital head set. An eye patch taking place of the other one and slightly red skin creeping up a defined chin and cheek.

"Where were you?"

Tom took a deep breath, clearing his throat as he shrugged off the shudder sent through him from the scratchy voice.

"We may have had time for celebration yesterday, but we still have work. You're the one that insists on it." Tom said, pulling out his tablet.

There was a shuffling behind him, the bed creaking softly as warm hands slipped around his waist, lightly tugging his blue shirt out from their tucked position.

"I could'a sworn I put you out of commission."

Big hands lightly pressing under neath the shirt, rubbing Tom's lower back and abdomen soothingly, allowing the secretary to sigh softly before laughing.

" You did, and I completely understand. You were excited—"

"In more ways than one."

Tom rolled his eyes slightly, pulling up the schedule.

"Did you not remember? I tried getting outta bed and fell. I basically dragged myself into the shower." He said, feeling said hands rub up his stomach, his black vest now going the crumpled state of his shirt as a warm body pressed against him.

" _Come back to bed._ "

Ah. Commanding as ever.

"We have a schedule. You have meetings you _need_ to be in." Tom pointed out, feeling lips press to his neck, a hot tongue dragging against his skin as hands tried to undo his tie, wanting to open up his shirt and reveal all the marks given form the night before.

"We may have conquered Africa. But the western world is still free."

Tom pointed out, taking those hands and settling them on the bed, biting back a smile as a small growl came from busy lips.

"What are you wearing? What happened to the new outfit you wanted? I gave you the money—"

"Like I said," The secretary intervened, pressing a button on his tablet, the curved wall suddenly pulling back to reveal glass and a sunny day.

_"We've got meetings today."_


	3. Chapter 3

The curtain settled on the adjacent wall, allowing the room to glow with light as the leader of the army groaned, rubbing his eyes.

" So? That's never been a problem before." He said, looking over to the tray and popping up a lid, seeing a fresh plate of mashed potatoes, freshly seasoned steak and hash browns. A small side of still sizzling bacon with eggs and toast.

"Those meetings are different. That's people from the base and they can't say shit. These people need to be impressed. If we can work out a deal to save resources and men from a war we don't need, then I'll take the risk of decency."

Tom stated, looking through the list.

"You've got fifteen minutes for breakfast. I'll give you an extra ten on your shower and five for getting dressed. We have a congratulatory seminar planned out on field F and you'll have to make a speech. I've had one written out for you but I'm sure you'll toss it as soon as it's put in your hands."

The Leader poured himself down coffee, flicking the pills and chewable tablet into his mouth and swallowing dry before taking a few sips of the dark liquid. He liked it with a bit of milk and sugar, but a sober sip always shocked him awake in the morning.

"Then our first meeting is at 3 with some political candidates from Canada. If we make good with them and strike out a deal than we could—"

"What did you have for breakfast?" The older of the two asked, dipping some toast into a dippy eggs and chowing on it as he placed a hand on Tom's hip.

"Oatmeal and berry's. If we happen to get a candidate on our side then we can—"

"Have some bacon."

Tom sighed, running a hand through his hair before setting his tablet on his lap, looking back to the older.

"I already ate."

"Don't care. Have some."

"Jesus, Tord. Paul and Patryk already sent you views of me eating—"

"Eat."

Tom groaned, snatching up a piece of bacon, and slowly nibbling on the edge. It was good bacon. But Tom was annoyed. The taller was practically throwing pounds onto him that were hard to work off. He had to be in certain shape to be qualified for secretary. Needed to be nimble and strong enough to get out of touch situations.

"I don't get you and food.." he said, watching Tord get up, his strong legs tensing as he stretched, cracking a few muscles and heading towards the bathroom.

"You didn't even eat!" Tom shouted, watching him gather a towel.

"I'll eat when I'm out."

Tom huffed, falling back on the bed and staring at the ceiling. He grabbed his tablet, holding it above his head and flipping through documents and plans for various machines for the army, busying himself with simple emails that Tord was too busy to take the time with such simple questions.

The pair walked down the halls, side by side. The taller of the two wrapped in his signature long blue coat.

"What happened to the red one? All those metals weighing you down?"

Tord rolled his eye, shuffling his shoulders back a bit and adjust the red shirt underneath. "No. That one's for battle. And important meetings."

"This isn't important?"

"Not important enough for me to care."

Tom stopped infront of the door, looking to the army leader. "You're war happy. I don't know how you've managed to take over half the world."

"It's because I'm war happy that we get things done. Strong army's get taken down and countries that don't want to fight are never prepared for our arrival." Tord said, opening the door and stepping in side.

The bustling room went silent as Tord entered. Leaders from around the world, dressed to their finest with satin stiff clothing and shimmering metal, all staring at the tall man, seemingly scarred and stoic.

The leader walked in further, holding the door open and keeping his eyes on the men and women of the table. Tom walked in, moving towards the table and marking off their attendance on his board. Tord closed the door, moving towards the table and stuffing his hands in his pockets.

The leaders around the table stood up, going to introduce themselves with a handshake. Tom respectfully shook they're hands, watching Tord follow after, specifically the people who'd offered they're hands to Tom first. The ones that rejected Tom and went straight for the army's leader were given nothing but a sharp glare and we're left with a cold palm.

The two made they're way tot he end of the table, Tord carefully pulling out Tom's chair and pushing it back in as his secretary sat down, then taking his own seat. The men and women around him sat after him, nervously folding they're hands as Tom set his tablet on a small stand, pulling on a pair of odd fingerless gloves with wires connecting to sensors over his finger pads.

Others watched him with an odd expression as he began to type on the table, seemingly nothing there to the naked eye, but Tom's goggles allowed him to see a digital keyboard that was connected to his device. Pulling up a new set of notes, the shorter looked over to his boss, seeing his silver eyes looking towards him for the ok. Once Tom nodded, Tord looked forward, eyeing a man dressed in grey and sweating at the other end of the table.

He was holding a large stack of papers and a remote to power the projector. He raised a brow, watching the male eventually start moving, passing out a thick booklet to everyone at the table. Tord peaked over, noticing Tom didn't have one and carefully slipping his to his secretary.

Tom forwarded his brows as the man began to talk, looking up at his boss. "Something wrong?" He mouthed. Tord looked around a bit before leaning to his left a little.

"You don't have one."

Tom looked back to the booklet, sliding it back to Tord. "Well I don't need one."

"You're the one taking notes—"

"And you're the one who has to make a decision."

"U-Um..."

The two liked up, seeing the room was now focused on the.

"Is there a problem?" The male asked, wringing his hands together.

"No—"

"I don't have a pamphlet." Tord answered, the booklet still in front of Tom.

"Oh- but I thought—"

"Guess you thought wrong." He said coldly.

A hand clenched down on his thigh, his eyes shifting to the man sitting beside him. Tom looked at him, the eyes on his head set narrowed.

"Don't be pouty."

The secretary whispered, sliding his booklet over in front of Tord, the singular grey eye staring at him for a moment before taking be book.

"Thank you."

Tom moved back to his tablet before suddenly jolting to the side as Tord pulled his seat straight against his own, the booklet placed between them. The secretary huffed, pulling his tablet back in front of him as the leaders arm laid on the back of his seat.

 _Jackass_....


	4. Chapter 4

As the leaders of the meeting swarmed out, Tom leaned against the wall outside, flicking through notes and reviewing important talking points he wanted to reiterate for Tord. Things that could potentially benefit his cause and help him out.

_But should I really? I could just keep it from him._

Tom shook his head slightly.

_No. He might figure out and find it odd. Don't draw attention to yourself now! We've been waiting to strike for five years! I can't risk that for a tidbit of information..._

"Did you hear anything interesting?"

The secretary jumped, giving out a huff as his boss leaned on his side, his arm on the wall above Tom's head, emphasising the height difference.

"A few. But they're trying to fuck us over." The shorter said, bringing up a chart.

"How so?"

"The want us to sign a trade agreement that'll prohibit us from taking over."

"...okay.... But what if we do anyway."

"Then they'll have our permission to use they're missile system to bomb every continent we've taken."

"Hmm.... Can't they just do that anyway?"

"Yes, but it would be beneficial to them if we sighed so they can have a reason to bomb any forgien outsiders that they've been meaning to get rid of. America hates Russians."

Tord hummed, looking down at the tablet the younger was tapping away at. Tom was slightly shielded form the over head light, seeing as Tord had become a make shift shading area. The sharp smell of after shave and men's soap was pungent on his chest and warmly intoxicating to the male pressed rather close to him. Tom looked up slightly, Tord catching the gaze and looking towards him questioningly.

"Did you shave?"

The older male felt his own face for a moment, seeming to double check the answer he had set in his mind before dropping his hand.

"Yeah. It was getting kinda scruffy."

"I liked your stumble." Tom said, almost pouting as his small hand reached up, feeling at Tord's now smooth jawline, fingers tracing under his nose and around his lips as the older man smirked lightly, giving off a chuckle before lightly reaching his teeth out, playfully biting at Tom's finger.

The shorter blushed, tugging his hand back to his chest and biting back a smile as the older laughed softly, his face feeling hot with the blood rushing to the surface. His digital eyes caught hold of a pair of men staring at them oddly, clearing his throat and shifting his tablet in his hands as the older watched him with amusement.

"A-Anyway, we should renegotiate with them, see if we can create a loop hole that'll require them to pay us a sum before they fire. They maybe as war hungry as you, but flash the a bill and they'll retreat faster the a doe in hunting season."

"Who was that one woman at the table with us?" Tord asked.

"You'll have to be more specific."

"Her uniform was light purple. And she was writing her own notes. She wasn't white but I don't know her ancestry. She had black hair, buns I think—"

"Yes, space buns. Maribel De Silva. She's portuguese."

"Well... She looks... She seems like—"

"A few generations back, her family moved there from south korea."

"Yes. That." Tord said, making the younger chuckle.

"She seems a little misplaced. Not in the sense that she doesn't know what's going on, but the fact that she doesn't fit in with how the other men and women present themselves. But she's very alert. She asked most of our questions for us too."

Tord hummed for a moment, looking over his shoulder and watching the woman for a moment, seeing her chat amongst other people of similar ranking and laughing a bit.

"Keep her on our radar, okay? I'd like to speak with her sometime, see how loyal she is to her own government."

"Yes sir."

Tord's bottom lip pressed out slightly, watching Tom write a few things into the schedule seeming to move a few things around and try to select a date and time for a small conference.

"Why don't you call me Daddy anymore?"

Tom jolted, almost dropping his tablet before looking around rapidly. Seeming startled even though it was whispered so quietly.

"Sir! You can't just stay something like that when—"

"But I miss it. Fuck these guys, I just wanna hear you're pretty voice say my name."

Tom gripped his tablet harshly, face flush as he tried to ignore his superior pressing slightly closer, trying to trap him into a small space without too much attention being drawn to them.

"Sir it's not–!"

"Daddy." Tord corrected, a playful smile on his lips as the other make became easily flustered. He wasn't usually so easy to flusher, yes he'd get a bit red int he ears, but Tom was full on freak out mode. Maybe it was because of these people, the ones he didn't know.

But Tord liked to imagine it was simply because he was the one saying these things.

"I swear to God, Sir, if you don't shut the hell up—"

"And what kind of authority do you have to speak to me like that?" The taller purred, eye going half lidded as he looked his secretary up and down. "I have half a mind to bed you over my knee."

"Oh, stop."

The older of the two chuckled softly, watching Tom clutch his tablet as he looked away.

"You know, we've got a few minutes between meetings," the idler started, his hand leaning against the wall with the rest of his arm reaching down a bit and twisting a piece of Tom's hair between his fingers.

"Why don't we stop by our room? That little toy you wanted came early and I'd love to see you lose your shit in bed—"

"Pardon me, Red Leader,"

Both men looked up, seeing a man from the meeting, rather tall and dark skinned, hair unnaturally blonde and back into tight curls against his head.

"Might I steal you away for a moment?"

"Of course, we were just finishing up." Tom said, pulling his flushed self back together and moving away from the wall. Tord pouted, seeming huffy as he stood straight in front of the man.

"It won't take a moment." The leader insisted.

"You two go chat, I've got things to reschedule and paperwork to organize." Tom said, tucking his tablet into it's holster.

"Hey." Tord said, catching Tom's arm and pulling his close, his back turned to the other as he placed a hand on his thin waist, his lips close the Tom's ear.

"Don't think for a second that this conversation is over."

"Were we having a conversation?" Tom teased, jumping as Tord gave him a pinch before removing away.

He younger huffed playfully as Tord moved the the darker man's side, looking at a few chart's on a sheet.

_"I'll show you a conversation..."_


	5. Chapter 5

Tom kept an eye on the time, foot tapping rapidly as soldiers became to gather around the field, the stage empty as they chatted amongst themselves. He bit his lip, using his glove to type int he air, sending Tord a quick message, asking where he was, how long he'd be, if he realized what the time was. He leaned against the raised stage, allowing himself to slide down to the concrete ground and sigh, pulling his headset forward a bit and rubbing under neath it, his nose feeling a bit sore from the device.

"He's still not here?"

Tom looked up, noticing Patryck and Paul walking towards him, the shorter of the two with his hand on the taller's back.

"No. I've no fucking clue where he's run for to. Damn bastard is gonna be late for his own post victory speech." Tom said, cracking his neck a bit as he closed his eyes, heading laying back against the wood.

"He's probably just running a little behind. You know how he is, always last minute." Pat said, moving away from his partner and over to the leader's companion. "I haven't seen you in a while. Definitely the first time I've seen you dressed _properly_ since you two got together. Had some meeting?"

"And we have one after this, so I swear to God, if he doesn't show up than he'll officially be marked off as unpredictable and in need of supervision."

"Don't you already do that?" Paul joked, tapping his cigarette before putting it back between his lips, taking a huff.

"Trust me, they're very much different." Tom said, head perking up as he heard dangling and clinking of metal. The secretary stood up as he saw his boss jogging over, dawned in his long red coat that glittered with chains and metals. He was clipping on a chained piece across his chest, groaning as he had a bit of trouble.

"Where the hell have you been? It can't take you this long to get dressed." Tom groaned, swatting away Tord's hands and fixing the piece himself, clipping and peircing the cloth around the taller man.

"I know, I know. As soon as that one guy got his grip on me then everyone else wanted a taste. Couldn't get a word in till they had me surrounded." He said, shuffling his shoulder and yanking on the cuffs of his sleeves.

"Whatever, after this we still have that meeting with the Canadian prime minister electives."

"What about after?"

"You're free for a while, then have to go back to your office at 3 and do a bit of paperwork."

"I reserved dinner for us at 6, think we'll make it?" Tord chuckled as Tom smoothed out his coat and straightened his collar.

" Depends if you drag your ass or not."

Tord gave off a little breath, moving up the steps and onto the stage as a soldier cold out to attention, the crowd suddenly went quiet. The red Leader stood on the stage, in all of his infinite glory. The army in front of his dressed in similar colors to him, red or blue cloaks depending on status and position.

Tom leaned against the stage, arms folded over the wooden planks and laying his head down on his arms as he watched the older man give his speech, Paul and Patryck moving towards the stage as well and leaning against it, these two much taller than tom and propping themselves up on their elbows.

"So are you two dating, now?" Patryck as, getting an akward little huff from Tom.

"I dunno. It's been wierd."

"Can't be weirder than him paying you for sex."

"Well I certainly don't mind it." Tom smirked slightly before lifting his head. " Not to be rude or anything, but Tord's never really been one for... Feelings. Not as long as I've known him. It was.. odd. Never pegged his as the 'I love you' type. Thought he was just one of those guys that sleeps around their whole life and works till they drop— and he was pretty fucked up when he said, could've just been the alcohol." He said, watching the crowd cheer as their leader chuckled, mentioning their lastest victory and celebrations being in order.

"I get that. He'll always be my chaotic little baby, but he's fairly distant. Doesn't trust that many people. But let's face it, you've known him since preschool." Pat pointed out. "You two practically grew up together, along with Matt and Edd—"

"And now Edd's on the run. Doesn't exactly peg Tord as the trusting type."

"But you've proved yourself. You've been by his side for the past five years, with no exception. Sure, it may not have started out the best, but you've shown him to be someone he can trust." Pat emphasized. "You haven't back stabbed him, haven't leaked him any information. Even Matt's done a few things and it took a good whole for Tord to trust him fully. You've been here. He'll, you two didn't even start your 'relationship' until a year ago. This only proves that you're someone he can rely on."

_Yeah, till I screw him the fuck over when I finally have enough money to ditch this place._

"He hasn't had a lot of people like that, maybe he just wants someone to be vulnerable with."

"So you're saying he might only want me because I haven't tucked him over?" Tom asked, looking over tot he taller man.

"Maybe, maybe not. This could be real, or simply a shout for companionship." Paul added, eyes focused on the wood and playing with his husband's hand, gently twisting the ring around his pale figure.

"Could be. He's lonely. Running an army isn't easy. Lot's of stress. But I'm sure you know about that first hand." Pat teased, making Tom groan and skin to the grassy floor while holding onto the stages edge, just dangling in embarrassment.

Did Tord really _have_ to tell him parents everything they did?

He got that they were young, only in their teens when they found Tord and took care of him, but that didn't mean he had to invite them onto their life. What happens in the bedroom, stays int he bedroom.

He was gonna fucking beat Tord for telling them.


	6. Chapter 6

Tom walked around base a bit, flicking his pencil rapidly as he stared at the schedule. He'd dropped Tord off at his meeting, soon finding that the other leaders had requested it to be private. Red Leader hadn't taken it too well himself, but Tom urged him to stay and go through with the process. He didn't have much to do, figuring he'd head over to Tord's office and see how much work he could get done on his own.

He soon arrived to Tord's office, closing the door behind him and making his way over to his computer. The secretary plopped into the big chair, the cushy leather having a slight groove from the leader's ability to sit for days at a time.

_He works himself to the bone. With the way he_ _fucks_ _, he damn better. No one should be that damn sore after sex._

Tom pulled the keyboard closer, fingers flying over the keys and typing in Tord's password. As he pulled up a few files, a little not bubble popped up on the corner of his glasses, designated by the name _Red Leader_.

_'what are you doing in my computer?'_

"Trying to get some work done." Tom said aloud, his goggles reading it and turning it to text, sending it to the other. Not long after, another ping chimed.

_' I'll take care of it later. Go relax.'_

"I am. This is me. Relaxing." He chuckled, filtering through papers and reading over trans scripts and he held a stack of contracts and papers Toes needed to sign, opening the ones in the approved pile and going to the signature page.

_'Get to bed. I'll join you after I finish it all. Don't over work.'_

"It's only 4! You'll be here to Midnight if I don't try to cut down these piles."

Tom grabbed a red pen, the ink deep blue as he scribbles down Tord's signature, not even his real name made it into the documents. He always wanted to be cautious of his name, just in case things went south with the army and he wanted to get away. Maybe a third have seen him up close, but not enough to recognize him.

_' I'll survive. Go, that's an order.'_

Tom rolled his eyes, digging into the large pile of crisp white paper scribbled with seemingly meaningless dark lettering; all however, having the possibility to end countless lives, whole countries, or even gain soldiers and allies. Others seemed a bit... odd. Human trafficking deals that somehow found they're ways onto Tord's desk. 

He wasn't actually gonna act on these, right? 

They were simple agreements to purchase young people and invert them into the army, the dealer even going so far to give him deals and discounts. Thankfully, Tom managed to scrounge together a few of Tord's notes, suggesting giving them new life within the army and freedom. 

"Least he's not a total dick." Tom chuckled to himself, pushing the contract to the side and leaving it for Tord to decide on his own. He didn't wanna be any part of human trade. He understood selling drug and guns and alcohol, maybe even machine designs and parts, but humans was where he drew the line. 

He pulled his headset up, rubbing around his eyes and nose, his skin sore and red from the long hours of usage. The screen inside that was displaying his surrounding and making things clear was starting to make him dizzy, his natural eye sight very short sided, only being able to see things on and a foot around the desk. His eyes passed over a specific name of familiar sounding. 

_The Green Militia_

His goggles rested on his forehead as he picked out the page, bringing it close to his face. 

A report from one of Tord's underlings. Tales of possible rebels and demonstrations of hate from those who are unwilling to obey under the army's force. Vigilantes that are attempting assassinations on the Leaders life, bragging anonymously in papers and on blogs of how they'll string him up. 

_He's trying to stop a rebellion that hasn't even had the chance to form yet. He's not taking any chances._

His head set chimed again, quicly putting down the paper and stuffing it into his work bag before sitting back up, pull the headset back over his eyes, everything int the room becoming crisp and a little text bubble to to the right. 

_' I thought I told you to head to bed.'_

"Aren't you on the middle of a meeting? Are you serious texting in a meeting?" Tom asked, smiling slightly as he got to the next contract, looking over the terms and consequences, just in case his leader was loopy minded and decided to just throw some into the mix. 

_' I will not tell you again.'_

"Ya know, some of these propositions are quite interesting. This one right here has the ambassador of hawaii wanting to sign a treaty-"

_'Tom...'_

"Says here he's willing to come to any kind of agreement, no matter the cost."

_'Thomas.'_

"Says it right in section B5. He's willing to hand over his younget daughter-"

_' Tom. Bed. Now.'_

The secretary smiled slightly. He could practically hear Tord's voice. How it would growl slightly as he commanded or lowered his voice, similarly to his gravely morning voice. The younger licked his lips slightly, hair on the back of his neck standing on edge, any previous nervousness vanishing in an instant.

"......Make me....."

_"This is why you're Daddy's favorite."_


	7. Chapter 7

Tom flicked the pen between his fingers, his elbows sat on the desk as he sat on top of his crossed legs. His headset was still scanning and taking in information, this task becoming increasingly hard as his mind was fuzzy and boggled by all the moving pieces and strategies from the generals and all the peas from other countries, some even threatening to attack on their own accord.

_How the hell does Tord keep up with all of this?_

Tom sighed, looking to the stack he had finished, almost completely through, save for the few high-classification profiles that he didn't have the mind to deal with. He didn't have the right thought process, or even the nerve to sign deals that were handing over countries and possibly thousands of lives along with it.

He looked up as he heard a chuckle, seeing the Red Leader leaning against the closed door behind him. his silver eye hooded and clouded with an emotion Thomas had become far to familiar with.

Lust.

"Glad I can count on you to obey orders." The leader said sarcastically, pushing forward from the door and making his way over to his desk. His gaze traveled over the crouched form, watching a pleasant redness tint his secretary's features at the attention. You'd figure with how often that gaze is taking up his body, he'd be used to it.

"You're the one with loads of paperwork. I'm simply taking a load off you're back."

The leader smirked, his heavy boots thumping against the wood floors, opening his mouth to make a comment-

"Don't you dare say anything about that. I get it, sex and cum. Haha, hilarious."

The taller male laughed, his lips curling up into a familiar smile that many beneath Tord's status never had the pleasure if witnessing. The younger smiled as well, looking back down at the documents in front of him.

"Sassy little thing for someone who's not gonna be able to walk in the morning."

Tom shivered, his digital eyes peaking to the side, seeing a large hand, gloved and organic fingers peaking out from the leather. The presence beside him made the shorter of the two relax, a warmth taking over his body as he saw the figure, half bent over and leaning towards his ear.

" _Vis_ _kongen_ _din_ _hvor_ _mye_ _du vil ha ham._ "

His hot breath ghosted over Tom's neck, sending a violent shudder up the younger's spine and a devilish smirk plastering itself on Tord's lips. Tom turned his head, his lidded gaze protruding through the headset as he looked to the older, body slouched as he whined slightly.

"No fair. That's dirty ." His face was inches away from The Red Leaser's, a front row seat to that teasing smile that was always forwarded in his direction. He's seen him throw it around a few times. Towards his parents, some high class generals that he was forced to get along with-- and Tom.

"Vil du se skitten? Jeg skal vise deg skitten, Bunny."

His accent was thick, always has been and most likely always will, always managed to force arousal through the shorter of the two. The way it'd twist words in his second language, honey dripping from his words and sweet as chocolate. But speaking in his native tongue was a whole 'nother story. Deep cords dipping deeper as he expertly pronounced word that- in all honesty, sounded like madness- somehow managed to have them sound like the sweetest poems and gentlest words Tom has ever had the pleasure of hearing.

Whoever said French was the language of love, clearly never heard a norwegian man speak.

The shorter male let out a a shaky breath as lips pressed to his neck, ginger kisses pressing against the cool skin, a tongue popping out every so often to lick at the soft flesh. Teeth nibbled on fresh patches of skin, sometimes biting lightly in to yellowed spots of past marks, almost gone before being renewed by sharp teeth. Smaller hands moved up, reaching to hold the taller's shoulders yet being caught by larger hands. Both thumbs from said hands, one organic and the other a cool metal, pressed into Tom's palms, rubbing circles into them. Tom hummed softly, hands slightly sore from holding the pen so tightly.

"Kom nå, skat. La meg ta deg til sengs. Hjelp deg med å slappe av."

Tom pouted slightly as Tord's lips lightly pecked his cheek bone, turning his head to look into his silver eye.

" Hvorfor må du erte meg sånn? Du er så grusom."

Tord chuckled as Tom spoke, nose nudging against the heavy head set, the other's small nose peaking out and tapping the older's.

" Min kjære," The leader started, pulling Tom's hands and backing up, beckoning him up and off his chair. "la oss legge oss, jeg får deg ikke til å vente lenge. "

The younger hummed as the taller leaned down, their lips connecting as their hands moved, smaller ones grabbing at the collar of a blue coat, and bigger ones sliding around a perfect waist, rubbing circles into his lower back. a few moments passed before they finally pulled away from each other, aroused kisses nipping at their lips as they attempted to separate.

They were clearly failing.

" My dear- Sukkerplomme. You're much too distracting- jævla helvete." He breathed, resting his hands on Tom's hips as the younger chuckled slightly, cool hands holding Tord's cheeks.

" Bra at jeg ikke gikk på det møtet da. " Tom teased, his headset displaying two eyes that looked up at the older fondly. The Red leader smiled lightly at the comment, nuzzling his nose into the side of Tom's cheek.

"I would've enjoyed it a lot more if you had, min konge." Tord purred, kissing his soft cheek as the younger's hands moved to his shoulders, carefully pushing him away. "honningkrukke," The taller whined, making Tom giggle slightly.

"Vi kommer aldri til sengen din hvis vi fortsetter slik." the older pouted as the shorter tugged him along, quickly logging out of Tord's computer and storing the documents away, grabbing his own bag and flicking off the lights as the two exited the room.


End file.
